


In which Gil has been weird(er)

by Overlord_Bethany



Series: blundering onward [5]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Gil is sturdy, Multi, OT3, Post-Canon, please please do not attempt to drink like Gil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Bethany/pseuds/Overlord_Bethany
Summary: Uncomfortable conversations proceed apace.





	In which Gil has been weird(er)

Gil didn’t notice the hand reaching for his arm until he felt a sharp tug on his elbow. He fought against it, more automatic than conscious reaction, but he found his own momentum and body mass turned against him. A twist, a tug, and a shove later, he stumbled through the door into an empty room. A familiar finger jabbed the air in front of his face. 

 "Violetta.“ A wave of relief swept over him. For a moment, he had thought perhaps Tarvek had seen him locking his lab after his latest round of tests. If Tarvek found out how Gil monitored biochemicals and electrical activity in his own brain, that would lead to an awkward conversation about trust and about how deep his bloodthirsty thoughts ran. "Hi.” He focused on Violetta’s accusatory finger. “What’s going on?" 

"That’s what you’re going to tell me." 

 She knows. Gil swallowed a spike of dread. "Sorry, what?" 

 Shifting her weight away from him, Violetta planted her fists on her hips. "You’re acting weird. Weirder than usual, and no offense, but you don’t have the best history with weirder than normal.”

 "No, that’s fair,“ Gil said, not at all comfortable with the direction of this conversation. So she didn’t know. But she suspected, and he doubted he could convince her to let the matter drop. 

 "So you’re going to tell me what’s going on,” Violetta informed him. “We can do this the friendly way, or we can do it with chemical enhancement. Your choice." 

 Gil eyed her resolute posture, her raised eyebrow, her faint scowl. If anyone could manage to drug the truth out of him, that person was Violetta Mondarev. Slowly, he nodded. "Ethanol is an acceptable chemical enhancement." 

 Violetta gave his shoulder a friendly punch. "Sounds great. You’re buying." 

 Of course he was. 

 An hour later, Gil sulked over his latest glass of absinthe—he’d lost count—while Violetta gawped at him in mingled horror and revulsion. Yes, that was just about the reaction he’d expected. Stare at the monster. Somehow, the self-sabotaging part of his brain demanded her opinion, now that she knew the truth. 

 "Vi, what—" 

 She cut his question short with a raised hand. "I’m going to have to stop you right there, Madboy. Nicknames are for friends only, and my friends do not tell me the creepy, kinky things they want to do to my gross cousin." 

 Wait. "But you made me—" 

 "Shut up, shut up, I’m thinking.” Violetta’s hand waved in small circles in the air. “I’m going to need at least five more drinks to process this.” She somehow had five more drinks in front of her, drinks Gil had not seen arrive. 

 Violetta lifted each glass in turn, peering through the liquid within with an appraiser’s eye. Then she took each and tipped its contents into her mouth, letting the liquor roll across her tongue and down her throat. After each, she sighed a tragic, beleaguered sigh. The sigh of someone doing far too much paperwork. She placed the last empty glass on the bar, folded her hands over it, and glared at Gil. 

 "Nope, I’ve got nothing. I’m calling in backup.“ 

 Backup? Oh, no, that meant telling more people! Gil opened his mouth to protest, but Violetta already knelt on her barstool, waving. 

 "Mama! Hey, Mama!" 

 Oh, no. Gil dropped his head into his hands. This just got better and better, didn’t it? 

 "Yeah, Oggie too!" 

 Gil’s head snapped back up. Mama Gkika prowled through the afternoon crowd, Agatha’s tawny Jäger loping along after her. "Violetta,” he hissed through his teeth. “Please don’t tell half of Mechanicsburg." 

 "Quit being such a baby,” Violetta scoffed. “Oggie is an expert." 

 Skeptical and growing surly, Gil eyed Ognian’s carefree grin. "Expert in what?" 

Oggie leaned against the bar beside Violetta. "Hyu keeds look serious.” Gkika placed one enormous hand on Gil’s shoulder, pinning him in his seat while appearing solicitous. No escape now. “Tell Mama hyu troubles, ja?" 

 "It amazes me how I’m still able to discover new levels of awkward.” Gil stared at Violetta, determined to ignore the Jägers as much as possible. He could feel them grinning at him. 

 To Gkika, Violetta said, “Gilgamesh is conflicted because in the last several weeks he has developed irrational urges to bite and otherwise damage his lovers to prove that they belong to him.” She drew a deep breath. “Oh gods, I need to get the taste of those words out of my mouth.” Snatching up Gil’s glass of absinthe, she drained it in a single gulp. 

 Gil watched her with a feeling approaching awe. “Does alcohol have no effect on you?" 

 "It’s having the effect of me not gouging out my mind’s eye right now, which I think is a pretty good effect." 

 "Hoy, Mama.” Oggie grinned across the top of Violetta’s head. “Ve gots a junior Jäger!" 

 "I… What?” Don’t panic. “I’m not turning into a Jäger, am I?" 

 "Hah, no.” Gkika gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It takes vork to make a Jäger. A leetle Jägerdraught von’t do it alone." 

 A little Jägerdraught. A little Battledraught. Water from the Dyne, indirectly. Years of unnamed improvements in his father’s lab. Gil chewed his lower lip. "I’m not convinced." 

 "Dot’s cute.” Gkika pinched his cheek. From anyone else, the gesture might have seemed condescending, but she managed to convey nothing but fondness. “Hyu dun schmell like Jägerkin, keed." 

 "That’s a relief,” Gil said before he could stop himself. 

 The Jägers laughed, which was also a relief. Gil propped his chin on the heel of his hand. How much absinthe had he consumed? Enough to feel a little warm and relaxed. Violetta gestured for refills, which appeared promptly. Absolutely relentless. 

 "So I’m NOT turning into a Jäger.“ No guarantee he wasn’t some other kind of monster. "But I'm… having Jäger thoughts?" 

 "Seems so. Not surprizink, really.” When Gil gave her a quizzical stare, Gkika shrugged. “Hyu poppa did science schtuff to hyu. Und Klaus neffer had much restraint ennyvay." 

 "Understatement,” Gil grumbled. He flicked his finger against the side of his glass and watched small ripples play across the surface of the absinthe. 

 "So hyu vants a leetle recreational bitink? So vat!“ 

 Was Oggie trying to help? It didn’t feel helpful. 

 "Recreational biting?” Violetta picked up Gil’s drink again. “Mind’s eye. You understand." 

 This had crossed over into ridiculous. 

 "How are you doing that?” Gil demanded. 

 A ghost of Tarvek’s smirk danced across Violetta’s lips. “Doing what?" 

 Gil pointed at the empty glass in her hand. "You’re half my size, and I’m sure you’ve consumed almost twice as much alcohol as I have." 

 "Have I?” Violetta set the glass down on the bar. “I didn’t notice,” she lied. 

 Gil glanced at the Jägers, who were both trying to smother their amusement. It felt like a grand joke everyone else understood. Like he was cut out of the fun. He slumped against the bar. Fine. 

 "Look, I think I understand what’s going on,“ Violetta said, startling him out of a sulk. "You’ve suddenly begun having Jäger-ish thoughts. You’ve had recent trauma with being out of control in your own head, so you’re pretty sure you can’t trust yourself. Maybe you feel guilty for having these impulses. Maybe you feel guilty for LIKING them. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Her expression grim, she levelled a finger at his face. “I like you, Gil. I do. But if I thought you were a legitimate threat to my lady’s safety, you would be dead already." 

 Gil studied her expression. Calm. Resolute. Confident. Could Violetta kill him? Probably. If he had lost control, it would be easier for her to manage it. "What if you’re wrong?” Stupid question. Had he learned nothing? 

 "Well, you’ll be dead, so worrying about it won’t really be your problem any more.“ 

 Huh. Good point. "That’s oddly reassuring." 

 The Jägers laughed. Violetta merely smirked at him across—when had she acquired another drink? 

 "Ve vill keep an eye on hyu.” Gkika squeezed his shoulder. “Und hyu ken talk to us." 

 Gil nodded. "Thanks…" 

 Gkika’s grip tightened. "No. Promise." 

 Everyone wanted a promise from him lately. Gil tipped his head back to meet Gkika’s stare. Something in her eyes caused his retort to die on his lips. "I… I’ll try." 

 One giant hand ruffled his hair. "Goot boy.” Gkika grinned her toothiest grin at him. She seemed fond and protective of him. Like an immense aunt. Gil almost giggled at the thought. Oh, how much absinthe had he had? Enough. It had started sinking in, blurring his thoughts and dragging impulses up out of the depths of his brain. Violetta was fine. He glared at her. 

 "I just KNEW you’d fall back on old habits eventually!“ 

 Tarvek? 

 Well of course Tarvek would find him here. Gil dropped his elbow onto the bar and sagged against it. Lovely. 

 "And you!” Tarvek pushed past Oggie to scold his cousin. “How could you enable him like this?" 

 Violetta beamed up at him. "Easiest interrogation of my life." 

 "I’d resent that, if I weren’t slightly drunk right now." 

 "Hoy,” Oggie said, “ve missed hyu at Tiny Monster Races last veek." 

Seriously? "Oh, is that how it is?” Gil glared at Tarvek. “I can’t have a few drinks with a friend, but you go to those stupid races the Jägers hold on Tiny Monster Island? No offense." 

"No, dey’s schtupid,” Oggie agreed with a sunny grin. 

 "General Goomblast invited me.“ 

 Gkika snorted. "Hy bet he deed." 

 Tarvek made one of those cute exasperated faces of his. "Come on, Gil. Time to go.” He tugged on Gil’s arm, but Gil merely tipped over against him. Still firmly rooted on his barstool, his cheek pressed to Tarvek’s chest, Gil sighed a happy little sigh. 

 "How much has he had?“ Tarvek demanded of his cousin. 

 "Am I supposed to be his minder?" 

 "Violetta!" 

 She sighed a noisy sigh through her nose. "Probably about two bottles. I wasn’t really counting." 

 "You let him—" 

 "Not his minder,” Violetta interrupted, substantially less entertained by the conversation than Gil was. 

 "She’s really not.“ Smothering an urge to laugh, Gil slid an arm around Tarvek’s waist. Muscles tensed at his touch. He took a deep breath, his nostrils filling with resin and spice, with amber soap. This all felt a bit too familiar. 

 "You’re just grumpy because you like the way he hangs on you when he’s drunk." 

 Gil’s eyes snapped open. "Really?” He didn’t sound too hopeful, did he? 

Tarvek’s heartbeat quickened a little. “This. Is. Not. Dignified.” Talking through his teeth, now. Always a good sign. 

 Violetta arched one eyebrow and gestured with—she had another drink? How? “In our family, dignity means being able to stand up after someone poisons you." 

 Gil buried a giggle in Tarvek’s waistcoat. Don’t get angry. Please. 

 "He’s supposed to be better than us." 

 What? The room stood still while Gil gazed up at Tarvek. Just… what? The slight flush on his cheeks confirmed that Tarvek had indeed blurted out an honest opinion. Sentiment. Whatever. 

 "I’m not.” I’m really not. I’m part Jäger or something, and I have to learn to control it. 

 Oh, shut up, Gilgamesh. 

 "You’re better than you think you are.“ 

 So much for shutting up. 

 Gil felt Tarvek’s breathing quicken for a moment. Then disappointment turned his shoulders downward and his eyes away. "That’s just the—" 

 "It is NOT the absinthe talking.” He could admit that it was the absinthe adding heat to his words, making him glare. “No, I wouldn’t call you righteous, but you’re not malicious either.” Shut up, shut up, so very much shut up. “And I wouldn’t change you.” Why wasn’t someone making him shut up? 

 "Hyu tell dot keed he’s doink just fine,“ Oggie said to Violetta in a stage whisper. 

 "Yeah, this is where I walk away.” Violetta patted Oggie on the shoulder. “You tell him yourself." 

 In one afternoon she had unraveled a problem that had gnawed at him for weeks. He should say something to her. "Vi, I—" 

 Violetta held up one hand as she slid off her barstool. "What did I say about nicknames?" 

 "That I don’t get to use them because I’ve unsettled you?" 

 "Close enough.” She prodded Tarvek’s shoulder with one finger. “You’re gross, both of you, but be gentle with him. He’s a little lost right now." 

 "Thanks, I think?” Gil watched as she threaded her way across the room, heading right for—oh. 

 Oh, how long had Agatha been standing there? 

 Taking Agatha by the hand, Violetta dropped a tiny vial into her open palm. “Give him three drops in a glass of water. He’ll be sober in twenty minutes.” She glanced back at Gil. “On second thought, better make that five drops." 

 Wait. THAT was how she’d managed to drink so much? "You… you cheated!" 

"Oh, Gil.” Chuckling, Tarvek planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Smoke Knights always cheat. It’s part of the job." 

 "No fair,” Gil grumbled into Tarvek’s chest. He knew he was being petulant, but it felt good. 

 "That also is part of the job.“ He could hear the amusement in Tarvek’s voice. 

"You’re no fair, either,” Gil mumbled, almost sober enough to hope his words disappeared in the fabric of Tarvek’s waistcoat. “Smell too good. Push me to be a better version of myself. I need you. And that’s no fair at all.” Seriously, why was he still speaking? 

 Tarvek let out a long, slow breath that Gil only just realized he’d been holding. He hooked both thumbs in Tarvek’s waistband and, propping his chin on Tarvek’s chest, gazed up at him, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his head tipped slightly back. A small crease shadowed his brow. What…? 

 "What’s that… What’s that face?“ But did he have to wonder aloud? Stupid absinthe. 

 "Self control.” Tarvek’s lip curled. Disdain, maybe? “You should try it.” Yes, definitely disdain. 

 "Hey, I have self control!“ 

 Tarvek’s eyes snapped open to glare down at him. "Says the drunk man tormenting me with fingers that won’t stay still." 

 Fingers…? Gil clenched his hands into fists. "Oh.” The seat beside him creaked. Turning his head, he saw Agatha sliding onto the stool Violetta had vacated. “Hi. He’s having self control but he didn’t say about what. He probably wants to smack me." 

 Agatha’s eyes widened, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. That couldn’t be a good sign. 

 "I don’t want to smack you,” Tarvek said through his teeth. 

 "He sounds like he wants to smack me.“ 

 "He won’t smack you.” Was that a smile Agatha hid behind her hand? “Though he’s a bit annoyed that you have the temerity to be this cute while drunk in public." 

 "I’m not in public,” Gil objected. “I’m at Mama’s. I’ve been naked here." 

 Tarvek tensed. "NOW I’m going to hit you.” But Agatha laughed. 

 "Zeetha told me all about that. She said you didn’t know you weren’t wearing pants until she pointed it out.“ 

 Tarvek scoffed. "Were you drunk then, too?" 

 "No, I’d been shot.” Gil stole a glance at Tarvek. He didn’t really look angry. Why wasn’t he angry? 

 "Gil.“ Agatha pried one of his hands loose from Tarvek’s waistband. "Drink this.” She wrapped his fingers around a glass of water. Oh, right. Violetta’s SoberUp drops, or whatever they were actually called. Cheaty cheat. 

 Gil eyed the glass with suspicion. “Does this stuff have any adverse effects?" 

"Well, it tastes like socks, and you’ll be a bit dehydrated if you have too much." 

Gil peered up at Tarvek. "How do YOU know what socks taste like?" 

 Tarvek scowled at him. "Shut up and drink it." 

 Gil contemplated the glass in his hand. He could stall longer. Annoying Tarvek sounded like a lot of fun. But… but Agatha wanted him to sober up. He sighed. 

"Fine.” He gulped the water as quickly as he could, trying not to taste it. He failed. “Oh, you’re right. It does taste like socks." 

 Tarvek sneered at him. "How do YOU know what socks taste like?" 

 "Don’t you remember?” It actually stung a little that Tarvek had forgotten. The redhead had bloodied two of the older boys’ noses before they’d released Gil. “I should have known there was something off about you, beating up eight-year-olds when you were six." 

 Tarvek exhaled noisily, as though punched in the stomach. Then he pulled Gil to him and held him close. "Oh…” His voice carried an apology half formed. I’m sorry I forgot, or maybe, it was callous of me to ask. Gil relaxed into the embrace. Apology accepted. Then Tarvek murmured against his hair, “Escapology training." 

 "Your own FAMILY stuffed socks in your mouth?” Agatha’s voice echoed the rage rising within Gil. 

 "Well, yes.“ Tarvek’s shoulders rose in half a shrug. "They did to everyone." 

"That doesn’t excuse it." 

 Gil grinned up at Tarvek, savage and sharp-toothed. "I think the Heterodyne would like us to furnish her with a list of names.” Images of Agatha devising punishment for his childhood bullies flashed through his mind. He choked back another near-giggle. Wasn’t that SoberUp stuff supposed to work quickly? 

Tarvek eyed him with an expression caught midway between amusement and exasperation. “You know that won’t happen." 

 "No.” Gil picked at the buttons of Tarvek’s waistcoat. “We just got done fighting a war.” Rage had ebbed into a sulk, and now he just wanted a comfortable place to curl up with Tarvek and Agatha. Somewhere quiet, warm, and safe. Closing his eyes, he focused on Tarvek’s hands, warm and strong, moving slowly over his shoulderblades. That… “That feels amazing." 

 Still not shutting up. Lovely. 

 "Hmpf,” Tarvek scoffed. “I shouldn’t reward you for bad behavior.” But his fingers kept moving, seeking the knotted muscles between Gil’s shoulders, soothing the tension away. 

 Gil propped his chin on Tarvek’s chest. “Tiny Monster Races,” he mumbled. 

“Tiny Monster…?” Gil felt Agatha’s arm slide around Tarvek’s waist. Her voice carried a note of playful menace. “You really—" 

 "That’s where he goes on Tuesdays." 

 "Can’t we let that go?” Tarvek complained. 

 "Sure.“ Gil gave him a slow, smug smile. "When you accept that I can have a few drinks—" 

 "A few dozen drinks." 

 "Drinks with Violetta,” Gil said, a little louder than he had begun. He arched one eyebrow in a challenge. 

 The corners of Tarvek’s lips twitched. “Never. If only because Violetta thinks drunk people are hilarious." 

 Gil thought of Violetta’s persistent complaints, and his smile broadened into a grin. "She really didn’t seem to think I was any fun. We probably won’t repeat this adventure anyway.” He rolled his chin across one of the buttons on Tarvek’s waistcoat. “Truce?" 

 Tarvek chuckled. "Never.” But he allowed Gil to tug him down for a kiss. Gil rose a little from his seat, meeting him halfway. Tarvek kissed him briefly, but in that reverent way he had sometimes, that gentle touch that made him ache all the way through. Gasping and trembling, Gil let his forehead fall against Tarvek’s chest. Agatha’s fingertips sifted through his hair, but the words she murmured failed to reach his ears. Not fair, neither one of them. Not fair at all. 

“Gil?" 

 Oh, she’d been speaking to him? Gil leaned back, blinking his eyes clear as he gazed up at Agatha. She smiled the softest smile, like she wanted to take him home, wrap him in five or six blankets, and tell the Castle to leave him alone. Yes, my love. Absolutely anything you want. "Hmm?” What a perfect time to forget how words work. Hello, sobriety. 

 "Are you ready to leave?“ 

 "Ah.” Gil glanced after the Jägers, who had removed themselves to a discreet distance. Oggie flashed a grin and a thumbs up. Recreational biting. Gil thought of the mark on Tarvek’s shoulder, faded now but still bruised burgundy in a perfect impression of his teeth. He thought of the handprint that had lingered for two days after he’d gripped Agatha’s hip a little too hard. He felt his face redden. “Yes. Good. Yes." 

 "Much better.” Tarvek dragged him off of the stool again. Gil reached for Agatha, sandwiching himself between the two of them. 

 "You prefer me tongue-tied to babbling? Well that figures.“ 

 "Yes.” Tarvek grinned at him, a toothy, mocking grin, but a warmth hid behind his eyes. How had Gil missed it for so many years? How had he believed in the enmity between them? 

 Agatha kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute either way.”

“Don’t encourage him." 

 It wasn’t funny, not really, but Gil started to laugh. He just couldn’t contain the happiness he felt. Here in his arms he had everything he wanted, and even if they didn’t love him as much as he loved them, he might never know it. They certainly behaved as though they did. For today, that was enough.


End file.
